


The Wandering Goose

by Zhie



Series: Eagle's Ridge University [4]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, M/M, Professors, Seattle, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 09:05:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14541348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: It's lunchtime for the most adorable professors at Eagle's Ridge University.  Is it a date, or is it just lunch?  And the Dean causes unexpected trouble. Bonus: Meet Professor Salgant!





	The Wandering Goose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ulan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulan/gifts), [Dalandel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalandel/gifts), [AndiiErestor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndiiErestor/gifts).



> The title for this is derived from the restaurant they are at, not stated in the actual story.

The first twenty minutes were spent driving to several locations, slowing down, and Glorfindel listening to Erestor curse under his breath when he realized his selections did not open until later. “I really wanted to take you someplace nice, but nothing is open yet,” grumbled Erestor as he merged back into traffic for the seventh time.

“That just means we’ll have to go to dinner later when they are.” Glorfindel pointed at a restaurant with patrons eating on a streetside patio. “What about that place. They seem to be open.”

“Uhm… I have never been there before,” admitted Erestor.

“No time like the present for an adventure,” suggested Glorfindel.

Erestor parallel parked into the last space in front of the establishment. “I fear we are both overdressed for this,” he worried.

“Dump your jacket in the car.” Glorfindel was already shrugging out of his. 

Erestor froze where he was, which was luckily on the sidewalk. “Leave my jacket?” he parroted.

“Sure. Your concern is that we won’t blend in, right? Ditch your jacket -- the tie could stand to go, too -- and let’s get some lunch.”

With a great deal of uncertainty, Erestor removed his jacket and retrieved a hanger from the back seat. He shook out the clothing and hung it up, and then did the same for Glorfindel’s jacket, despite it being slightly wrinkled. Erestor hesitated with his tie, but carefully removed it and hung it on his hanger. This still left him wearing the navy vest, which he had paired with a lavender shirt with white cuffs and collar, and a white tie. When he turned, he caught sight of Glorfindel attempting to mute a smile. “I feel… unfinished,” muttered Erestor.

“I think you could fool just about anyone,” offered Glorfindel. “If it makes you feel better, I promise to be properly put together for dinner tonight.”

“Deal-- wait, dinner?” questioned Erestor.

“Unless you have other plans… you said all of the places you wanted to go were closed,” reasoned Glorfindel.

Erestor felt that now familiar blush creeping up on him. “You want to have dinner with me?”

“And lunch, if we get in there before they stop serving.”

\- - -

“I will have the Farro Salad, and… the Big Trouble biscuit… and just water is fine,” said Glorfindel as he handed the menu back.

“Did you want bacon with that biscuit, hon?” asked the server. Glorfindel shook his head. “Fried chicken on your salad?” The answer was the same. She turned to Erestor. “And you?”

“Uhm…” Erestor had spent the time since they were seated reading the menu over and over, and despite having ample time, still appeared puzzled. “Uh…”

“Did you need a few more minutes?” offered the server.

“No… I think… maybe I will have…” He filled the menu back and forth, and then stabbed his finger at one of the entries. “I will take the Sweet Blond, fresh fruit, and a cup of coffee.”

“Back with your beverages soon,” the server said as she took the other menu and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

“This is a cozy little place,” remarked Glorfindel after coffee and water was set on their small wooden table. The cafe was small, and it meant that beneath the table, their knees were nearly touching. “How long have you lived here that you never came to this place before?”

“I went to college at Eagle’s Ridge for my undergrad and my doctoral studies, and I was at Seattle University for my graduate work, so really, since I was a college freshman,” said Erestor.

“And where did you live before that?”

“Oh…” Erestor sighed. “Here, there… we traveled around a lot.” Erestor’s hand was gripping the sugar packets as he spoke, and Glorfindel steered the conversation away from whatever bothered Erestor.

“Were you hired by the college right away?”

“When I returned for doctoral work, I was able to find work on-campus, assisting various Professors. One of them was close to retirement, and put in a good word for me. That, coupled with being known on campus already helped me to break into the academic world. Now, I think I am firmly rooted there. I have had offers at other institutions, but Eagle’s Ridge does a lot to give me the freedom I would want with my research and teaching. I do not want to have to start all over again somewhere else,” said Erestor. “What about you? You mentioned teaching in other places.”

“I spent 2010 through 2016 at a technical college in New Jersey,” explained Glorfindel. “Due to budget cuts, and a lack of tenure, I spent about a year and a half doing landscaping and odd jobs, and… this is going to sound depressing,” he trailed off.

Erestor tilted his head and waited until their drinks were delivered before he said, “I think you hit ‘most depressing’ when you told Fingon and I about being held at gunpoint.”

“Fingon?” 

“Oh, Kano… sorry, he and I… we have some history. Former roommates,” Erestor said hastily as he felt the familiar blush creep up on him. “Fingon is just a nickname.”

“Ah.” Glorfindel nodded. “Well, then…” He tapped his fingers along the side of his glass. “I sold off most of my things, kept a storage unit for the rest, and lived out of my van while I looked for work. I migrated, somewhat unexpectedly, because finding a horticultural position for someone my age with less experience than my peers was more difficult than I expected. I ended up in California, which was far more expensive than I intended it to be, and so I started looking for jobs here and in Oregon, and this one came up and it was perfect, and I was extremely fortunate to get it.”

Erestor stirred his coffee and bit his lip. “Well, that just made me feel extremely privileged,” he said humbly. 

“I am sure you have had your own share of trials and tribulations,” said Glorfindel. “Everyone has challenges in their lives.”

Slowly, Erestor looked up. The warmth in the eyes looking back at him caused him to blush yet again. “Well, I--”

“Good afternoon, Dr. Sullivan! And here I thought you and sunlight disagreed!” From the doorway of the establishment came the boisterous voice of a portly man carrying a thin portfolio. He was dressed in a blue suit with darker blue stripes running vertically, and a speckled bowtie. He had one thumb under his left suspender as he sized up the situation and waddled over to the table that Erestor appeared ready to crawl under. “Still taking your coffee as an IV, I see. Very bad for your health, that caffeine, you know,” advised the uninvited visitor. 

“I recall your words on several hundred occasions,” answered Erestor tersely. 

“And yet, to your own drummer do you march.” This man, who wore spectacles as well, pushed the round little frames up a bit higher, then whipped a hankie from his pocket to dab his forehead. “I recognize you from the coordination meetings, but I do not believe we have been formally introduced,” he said as he stuck out a pudgy hand in Glorfindel’s direction. “Salgant J. van der Wilt the Third, chair of the Performing Arts Department.”

“Professor van der Wilt teaches music,” explained Erestor dryly.

“Ah. A pleasure, to be sure. I love music.” Glorfindel shook Salgant’s hand with a smile. “Glorfindel LaFleur. Horticulture, botany, and agriculture.”

“The plant man. Very good, very good. Splendid!” Salgant hooked both thumbs under his suspenders. “Are you enjoying the new greenhouse?”

“Absolutely,” Glorfindel cheerfully answered despite a hidden look of warning from Erestor. “The design is perfect for teaching and for my students. It would have been nice if the office had been built inside, but I think I shall manage alright.”

“So then it is not entirely perfect,” said Salgant, a smile still on his face above his triple chin.

“No… I mean, it is, for a greenhouse. It might not be logical to have an office in a greenhouse,” said Glorfindel. 

“‘Scuze me,” pardoned the server as she reached between Salgant and Glorfindel to set a plate on the table. “Good to see you today, Sal. Your usual table and order, hon?”

“That would be most efficient. Most efficient, my dear!” Salgant gave a bit of a bow to Glorfindel. “I would be most interested to hear your thoughts on the latest retention plan, if you have had a chance to read it. New blood is always good on the committees -- perhaps we might see you at the Committee Recruitment Luncheon next month.”

“Perhaps,” said Glorfindel. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Entirely mine, dear sir. Entirely mine.” To Erestor, Salgant merely offered a curt, “Dr. Sullivan,” before he left.

“Not a fan of yours?” asked Glorfindel once he and Erestor were alone with their food.

Erestor sighed. “He was Fingon’s replacement. I sat on the interviewing committee.”

“Oh? Not your first choice?” asked Glorfindel as he placed a napkin on his knee. 

“None of them were my first choice,” grumbled Erestor. “We should have someone who can perform, both vocally and instrumentally, and know their music history, nationally and worldwide. It should be someone with live and recorded sound experience, and--”

“Was Fingon really all that?” cut in Glorfindel.

Erestor squirmed slightly as he picked up his fork. “No… but… we had the opportunity for it.”

“Mmm. Well, as the lyrics go, you can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.”

“Rolling Stones, 1969. The album was Let It Bleed.” Erestor smugly began to cut into his food.

“Oh, fuck me, you are one of those,” mumbled Glorfindel, but there was a smile on his face, which seemed to brighten as Erestor’s cheek shined red.

Erestor ate a piece of his fruit, and then looked up. “One of what?”

“One of those people with a photographic memory.”

“Actually, the term is eidetic memory, and it is quite rare for adults,” Erestor explained.

Glorfindel picked up his sandwich while Erestor continued to cut his into bite-sized pieces. “When did the space shuttle explode?”

“Challenger or Columbia?” asked Erestor, but before Glorfindel could reply, he went on. “Challenger, which exploded on takeoff, was destroyed on January 28, 1986, while Columbia’s disaster occurred on re-entry on February 1st, 2003.”

“And how long after--”

“Seventy-three seconds.”

Glorfindel shook his head. “You are incredible. So basically, I am having lunch with a genius.”

“Not so much that, but it all depends on visualizations. I have to have seen something at least three times, usually more, and repeated it or dwelled upon it in order to remember it.” Erestor shrugged. “It is a combination of mnemonics, recall, and categorization -- the loci system works wonders if you know how to use it.”

“So if you see or hear something enough, you just remember it.”

“Exactly.”

Glorfindel looked down at his plate, face partially obscured. “Alright, I have one for you to stump you.”

“Go for it.”

“What color are my eyes?”

Erestor bit his lip and looked down. Just as Glorfindel was about to speak, Erestor blurted out the answer. “Blue. Blue like the ocean, not blue like the sky.” He had one hand at his vest pocket, fiddling with the chain of his pocket watch. “I believe the phrase ‘piercing blue eyes’ would be accurate.”

Glorfindel looked up with a wolfy grin. “I was thinking more like ‘intense cerulean orbs’.”

Now Erestor looked back up again. He pushed his plate aside so that he could lean forward a little without fear of accidentally getting his tie into his food. As he peered closer, Glorfindel bemusedly did the same, resting his chin on his fist, elbow propped on the table. Finally, Erestor sat back and said, “Aegean blue. Or, azure.”

“Azure. I like that. It sounds much fancier than plain old blue.” Glorfindel returned to his food. “So what you are saying is that I have to watch what I say around you?”

“It just means I stand a better chance of recalling whatever you do say.” Erestor centered his plate again. “It also means I am exceptionally good at time management, because due dates do not elude me.”

“Speaking of due dates… you made mention the other day that you do a fair amount of grant work.”

Erestor nodded. “Do you have something which requires my expertise?”

“I had hoped to have someone review something I am planning to apply for. Some of the things that they are asking for are beyond my current knowledge. I want to learn more about the grant process so that I can help to contribute to the department. Would it be alright if I were to email something to you next week?” asked Glorfindel.

“Of course. This week is actually ideal, if you already know which one it is. Next week I have two classes with papers due back on Tuesday, and I anticipate questions from the teaching assistants left and right. I have far too many sophomores staffing my classes this year.”

“I could… bring it along to dinner tonight.”

As if on cue, Erestor blushed. “That would be fine,” he hurriedly said. 

“Fantastic. You know, I have a feeling I will spend most of the afternoon in the greenhouse, so maybe I should give you my number so that you can call me when you are ready to go,” suggested Glorfindel.

Dumbfounded for a moment, Erestor soon nodded his consent. “Yes, yes, and you should have mine.”

“Here.” Glorfindel pulled a Nokia flip phone from his pocket and slid it across the table. “You just push contacts and you can add yourself in there.”

Erestor stared down at it a moment. “Oh… sure. Um…”

“And then I can put my number in yours.”

Erestor nodded. “Of course.” He pulled his from his vest his iPhone, and quickly entered the passcode. The first thing he saw were his text messages with Fingon, and he hurriedly closed the window and navigated to the contacts screen. “Here we go.” He slid his phone across the table.

Each of them struggled to manage the technology before them, Erestor shaking his head at the limits of the number pads, and Glorfindel muttering things like ‘oops’, and ‘no, wait, where is the backspace’ as he added his information to Erestor’s phone. Erestor finished first, and turned the device over in his hand, playing with the hinged part while he waited for Glorfindel to finish.

Bzzt! Bzzt!

Instinctively, Erestor placed his hand in his vest pocket to retrieve his phone, then froze. The color drained from his face as he realized that Glorfindel held his phone, and whomever had just texted now had shared that private conversation with the technologically challenged blond across from him. What was more, there were only two people who texted Erestor with any regularity -- Fingon, and Maedhros, and Maedhros’ messages typically consisted of ‘Is Fingon with you?’ when Mae’s husband did not arrive home on time. 

From the look in Glorfindel’s eyes, it was most certainly not Maedhros.

Slowly, their eyes met. “Here. I think this is for you,” said Glorfindel as he tilted the phone so that Erestor could take it from him. The double buzz came again, and Erestor fumbled the phone away, but from the look of things, not before Glorfindel saw the second message.

The first read: How is your date going?

And the second: Is he hawt? ;-)

Erestor turned the phone face down on the table, turned his head to the side, and placed his fingers over his lips, eyes closed, willing himself to disappear.

“You should probably answer him. He is your boss.”

Slowly, Erestor opened his eyes. He half expected to see a glare or a look of disgust, but instead, he saw only a beautiful man with kind eyes and a playful smile. 

“I mean, if you ask my opinion, I think it is going rather well. I already have a second date lined up for this evening,” he said, and he gave Erestor a wink that broke through the barrier and made Erestor smile back. “Oh, yes, rather well, indeed,” said Glorfindel as he decided to work on eating his lunch again.

“He can wait,” Erestor said as he slid the phone into the pocket of his vest.

Glorfindel leaned back and continued to smile. “Now that is the sort of reply that causes a date that is going rather well to transition to one that is fantastic.”

They spent nearly another hour at the restaurant, exceeding the time Salgant set aside in his day for lunch (and extraordinary feat, to be sure), split the bill, and returned to their shared office past three. “I do need to see to some things in the greenhouse, and then I should probably make sure my bike gets home tonight, so maybe I should just meet you wherever we are going?” offered Glorfindel. 

“Or, I could pick you up,” offered Erestor. 

“That would be very sweet of you…”

“But?” worried Erestor.

“I do not live in the best neighborhood,” explained Glorfindel. 

“So?” 

Glorfindel chewed his lip. “I do not keep a car because my last vehicle - the van - was stolen, and I can keep the bike in my apartment.”

“Oh.”

“So, yes, that would be very sweet, but if you do this,” cautioned Glorfindel, “you need to pick me up before dark, keep your doors locked and windows up, and do NOT get out of the car and leave it running, and when I go home tonight, I am going to take an uber.”

Erestor nodded following each directive. “I will call before I come over, and you can send me the address.”

“Already in your phone.” 

“Oh.” Erestor blushed as he pulled the phone out and looked in the contacts. “There you are.”

“There I am.” Glorfindel picked up a pad of paper from his desk. “Should we shoot for… say, seven?”

“Seven is great. Perfect.”

Glorfindel nodded, and now it was his turn to be shy. “So… how do we… do we… shake hands? Are you a hugger?”

“What?”

“First date,” Glorfindel awkwardly reminded Erestor. “We should… you know, whatever you want to do to signify the end of date number one.”

“Oh… yes… um, shaking hands seems far too formal,” realized Erestor.

“Should we… try a hug?” asked Glorfindel with a shrug.

Erestor stayed rooted in place, but said, “Sure,” and a moment later, was much closer to Glorfindel than he had intended or expected that day. He lifted his arms up oddly and rested his hands gingerly on Glorfindel’s back. Stray hairs from Glorfindel’s ponytail tickled his face and neck, and he relaxed a little as he felt Glorfindel’s gentle yet firm embrace. 

Glorfindel breathed in deeply. “Your cologne is very nice,” he complimented, chin rubbing against Erestor’s shoulder as he spoke. Erestor thought he made some reply, but it was hard to tell, for he was still mesmerized at the feeling he was experiencing. It was Glorfindel who made to step away, and Erestor lowered his arms. “Until this evening,” said Glorfindel, and with a wink, he was gone.

Erestor dropped down into his chair and looked around at the papers and folders on his desk. Then he looked to the other desk in the room, and the array of items upon it, including six different potted plants.

A knock came upon the door some time later. “There you are!” exclaimed Fingon as he let himself in, for the office door was ajar. “You never answered me. I was beginning to worry he was one of those nice guys who turned out to be a serial killer or something.”

“Oh. No. Sorry.” Erestor reached for his phone and pressed the button. “Crap! How is it 6:14 already?!” He shoved the phone back into his pocket and grabbed a stack of folders from his desk.”

Fingon grinned. “Have you been up here daydreaming about Mr. Tree Hugger all this time?”

“Only since 3:20,” defended Erestor as he gathered the rest of the things he needed and shoved them into his messenger bag.

Now Fingon noticed the change in attire. “Since when do you show up without a jacket?”

“I must have left it in the car. Oh, crap, his is in there, too.”

Fingon grinned and leaned against the wall. “And what were we doing that would require a loss of jackets?”

“Piss off -- I am going to be late,” grumbled Erestor. “I am never late for anything.”

“Sorry. So…?” Fingon motioned with his hand. 

Erestor stopped his bustling about for a moment. “I have never felt so comfortable with someone in my entire life.”

“Oh, that is good,” complimented Fingon. “I will not keep you, then,” he said. “I just--”

The door opened, nearly knocking into Fingon’s elbow. Glorfindel stepped inside, made a hasty apology, and then went immediately to Erestor. “Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Uhm… yes? What are you doing back here?” Erestor asked, but his eyes were admiring the image before him. Glorfindel had showered, slicked his hair back into a ponytail again, and wore black slacks and shoes with a pressed blue shirt that matched his eyes and a dark blue sport coat. From his view near the door, Fingon looked impressed and mouthed ‘nice’ with a nod of his head, unseen to Glorfindel.

“I tried calling many times, but you never answered,” said Glorfindel. “I got home, but then the cops showed up across the street and arrested some drug dealers, and the street was blocked because one of them ran, and I just didn’t want you showing up in the middle of all that,” he said. “You didn’t answer, so I took a shot that you were lost in your work and that I could make it back over here.”

“You did not ride your bike, did you?” asked Erestor.

“No, I took the bus. They run frequently this time of day.” Glorfindel let out a sigh of relief. “I am still going to take that uber back tonight.”

Erestor pulled out his phone to check the missed calls with a frown. “I have nothing on here from you,” he said, puzzled.

“I swear I called you,” answered Glorfindel as he pulled out his.

“Ah… if I may?” Fingon approached, hand held out. While each lifted their phone to him, it was Glorfindel’s he took hold of. “Let me see… alright. Yes, this is Erestor’s number… Glorfindel, what is your phone’s area code?”

“423,” he immediately said.

“And Erestor’s is 206, so therein lies the problem.” Fingon held up the phone to display it. “You have to put in the area code on these old phones, or they default to the phone’s area code when they call out.”

“I know that,” said Glorfindel, and he gave a sideways glance and smirk to Erestor.

“Oops,” was all Erestor would offer.

“No worries. Here we go.” Fingon fixed the entry and handed the phone back. “Not sure who you ended up calling instead.”

“Whomever it is has six progressively more worried messages on their voice mail in Chattanooga,” remarked Glorfindel as he put the phone away. “I was seriously worried you might have given me someone else’s number.”

“Technically, he did,” said Fingon, receiving a glare from Erestor. “Well, I will let you two kids get going. Make sure you get in before curfew,” he joked as he held the door open for them. As Erestor started to pass by with the messenger bag, Fingon reached out to tug it away.

“I need that,” insisted Erestor. 

“Is there anything in here that is not work?” asked Fingon.

Erestor stared at Fingon for a moment before he said, “My charger.”

Fingon pulled out the charger and cable and held them out to Erestor.

Erestor took the and shoved them into his pocket. “I also need my medications,” he said after a moment of hesitation.

Fingon took the bag to the desk, set it down, and pulled out an inhaler and four different bottles before Erestor’s shoulders slumped and he said, “Just take the folders out if you are intent on keeping me from doing my work tonight.”

“You have office hours in an office to do work,” emphasized Fingon as he swapped the folders out and placed the bottles and inhaler back in. “Have fun tonight. Consider that a directive from your supervisor if you must.”

“Sounds like you have a great supervisor,” remarked Glorfindel.

“He has his moments,” Erestor said as he took his messenger bag back. “Do not wait up for us, ‘Mom’.”

“You boys have a good time,” Fingon responded in a falsetto. “Buh-bye, now. Buh-bye.”

Once they were around a corner and walking down a stairway, Glorfindel tugged Erestor aside by the elbow. They were midway in the dim stairwell, and alone. “Before we go any further,” said Glorfindel in a low voice, “There is something I need to get out of the way.”

“Alright,” said Erestor, slightly confused.

Glorfindel wet his lips, and a moment later, had backed Erestor into the corner of the stairwell, and kissed him softly. They parted a moment later, and Glorfindel apologized with, “I know we have technically only been dating for about five hours, but… I have been so distracted by you since the other day in the cafeteria.”

“Well… good thing you made such a good impression today,” reasoned Erestor.

“So… is that… did I just fuck thin--”

Erestor kissed Glorfindel back before the rest of the words could come out. “Does that provide you with the answer you were looking for?”

“Oh, yes,” confirmed Glorfindel. “That is a good answer. A very good answer.”

“It is a fantastic answer, and you know it,” Erestor said before he lead Glorfindel down the stairs and out into the fading sunlight.


End file.
